


Nervous?

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, FamilyAU, LLF Comment Project, Mrs. Armstrong - Freeform, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: “Come in.”Watched her mother in the mirror, stepping into the room, rose coloured dress flittering around her.The smile soft, creases only dug into her skin from laughing. A blush of excitement to her cheeks, but a hint of nervousness too.“How are you feeling Ollie?”





	Nervous?

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one is based on a prompt send in by a wonderful Nonny, quite some time ago.  
> I really have to apologize for the delay!  
> This one plays in the Olivieer!FamilyAU so often seen from me, with little Lilly already having graced the world with her existence, playing out a bit more than a year after the promised day.  
> The prompt was: _I never imagined myself in a wedding-dress!_  
>  I hope it's a good read!

She finally understood what her mother had been going on about.

Hundreds of your own soldiers, your own troop, were something quite different than hundreds of wedding guests. She’d never felt nervous about confronting the former, maybe a little bit before she’d done it the first time. And with today’s guests there wouldn’t be a second time at all, if things went well, seeing as you usually only married once.

Though she was ready to run if she was honest, grab her soon to be husband, her daughter and just flee.

Stood in front of the mirror, examining herself, Lilly sleeping in her crib. She’d just fed the little girl, burped and changed her, not once sparing a though for the white dress she currently wore. Strongine Had designed and tailored it, clothed her in a piece of art for this day, having taken into account all of her wishes and preferences.

Her whole family had, concerning this day and the ceremony, trying to make it as easy on them as possible. They’d been ready to compromise, a lot more than usual. While the total number of guest was still incredibly high, Buccaneer and she had for example gotten their wish of the actual ceremony being small. Had invited whom they considered close friends, their first ceremony in North Cities town hall, two weeks before Lilly’s birth, only attended by the Forts Doc Patty and Communications Officer Karley as witnesses.

Her parents had understood once they learned about Lilly’s existence, the girl already being a few weeks old when they returned from Xing. Had of course attributed the quick thinking to Buccaneer, who’d been adamant about her not giving birth to their daughter out of wedlock, though the man had been decidedly more concerned about the legal trouble they’d have to go through because of his heritage should this happen. Decency hadn’t been on his mind, that she knew for a fact.

And when they asked her about a proper ceremony for friends and family, and a whole lot of her parent’s friends too, she resigned herself to this fate. Glad that Buccaneer proved to be a skilful negotiator in such situations, she left most of the haggling, done over Briggs’ radio, to him. It had been an adorable picture, really, him sitting on a stool in front of the speaker, Lilly held to his chest and pulling on his beard.

They got their private ceremony, out in her favourite spot in the garden, with the added plus of it being July. It was warm out, everything was in bloom and from experience she knew that it was pretty calm around Briggs at this time of the year, too. Buccaneer talked her parents into simply not inviting the people she didn’t like to the huge reception and her wish for a small side room, a safe-haven, had been answered as soon as she offered to just nurse her daughter in the ballroom, for all to see.

The food they both liked would be served, a band they both could agree on would play. Social norms eased up on, usual dress-codes forgone. If she thought about it, they’d really tried to be accommodating of their wishes and preferences.

Her own sister had composed her wedding dress too, listening intently to what she needed and hoped for, expectations exceeded by far.

Looked in the mirror, upon the piece of art she wore, still doubting that her clumsy little sister had fabricated it with her own hands. Her little sister, who once accidently broke her left arm when playing tag with her. Her little sister who once fell down a flight of stairs, because she’d been skipping in overexcitement. Her little sister, who’d ran from bees and spiders, though never from her.

The off-white cloth wrapped around her figure tightly, showed it off, though it did not feel constricting. The skirt flared only a little and not before it reached her knees, giving her room to manoeuvre and hiding her shoes at the same time. It had been a pain to find heels she could walk in, toes missing due to frostbite presenting themselves as quite a problem. And thanks to the skirt no one would notice if she slipped into something more comfortable later on.

Her arms were partly covered, sleeves playful, like veins wrapping around her. The cloth embroiled with real pearls, imported from Creta, hand-sewn onto the dress. And Strongine had honoured her wish to cover her chest, flatter it without showing it off, though leaving her with easy access should she need to nurse. Had also made sure to cover up the worst scars on her back, though proud of them, knowing that Buccaneer loved them too, not keen on getting asked stupid questions about them either.

The jewellery she wore old, for many generations in the family, the thin silver necklace following her neck, the long earrings tipped off with pearls. The ring she wore, a simple band of silver, soon to be replaced with another. Her nervousness came back full force, just as a knock sounded on the door. Knew who it was, her bridesmaids having left for last-minute preparations quite some time ago.

“Come in.”

Watched her mother in the mirror, stepping into the room, rose coloured dress flittering around her.

The smile soft, creases only dug into her skin from laughing. A blush of excitement to her cheeks, but a hint of nervousness too.

“How are you feeling Ollie?”

Wanted to be mad at the unloved nickname, her anger instead coming out as a shaky breath.

Her mother and she had always been honest with one-another, close to an extent, though their opinions had often clashed. For all through her childhood and teen-years Olivier had gotten to know her mother as a woman sticking to traditions, often passed down through the family-line for generations. And she’d met her at every turn, never satisfied with what the existing rules offered her, wanting more.

“I think nervous doesn’t cut it!”

Later in life she’d learned that other older siblings were mad at their parents, for awarding their younger ones more freedom, but in her case she’d always known that she’d been the reason for this freedom. Had she not rebelled, they probably all would be married already, with eighteen years old at the latest.

A voice in the back of her mind reminding her that all the Armstrong-girls would’ve fought though, hadn’t she.

The expression of her mother still thankfully calm, her question earnest.

“Are you having second thoughts because of Buccaneer?”

A smile coming to her face, a wave of relief calming her immensely.

Her parents hadn’t been too happy about the situation, but Buccaneer fit surprisingly well into the family. Talked with her father about bear-hunting, complimented her mother on taste and style. Talked to Amue and Strongine with ease and even put up with Alex’ constant and intrusive asks if he was properly taking care of her. He even put up with Cathy’s swooning, whenever he wore something without sleeves.

“No!”

Her voice not angry, but laced with certainty. A smile exchanged through the mirror, her mother looking that much more relaxed at her words. Opening her mouth again, the heart of her nervousness showed itself.

“It’s just, I never imagined myself in a wedding dress! So many people are going to look, all with their expectations and…”

That her mother slung her arms around her middle from behind hadn’t happened in several decades. Yet, it was a feeling immediately familiar to her, knowing that she’d missed it. Nothing was as tender, little made you feel as secure as this embrace, her mother resting her chin on her shoulder instead of her hair today.

“So, people looking makes you nervous? But only in a skirt? Am I understanding that right?”

A mirth to her mother’s voice that instantly calmed her irritation at these words. A laugh instead escaping her, suddenly her own nervousness hilarious to her, unneeded and as such, stupid.

She commanded platoons bigger than the guest-list for this event, had led people to war, had barely a year ago helped defeat something that would’ve destroyed these lands and its people completely. What were those people against that, looking at her when she walked down an aisle, towards a man she loved with all her heart, their daughter in her arms?

The change in demeanour not going unnoticed by her mother, who held her a bit tighter for a moment, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

Her voice easy, turning her head for the first time in many years, pressing a soft kiss to her mother’s cheek too, something she’d been so fond of as a little girl.

“I’m so proud of you, Olivier.”

The tears that stung her eyes forgotten when a squeeze to her shoulders had her stand straight, idle hands smoothing out last wrinkles in her dress, pushing a stubborn curl back behind her ear again. With care she took the still sleepy Lilly out of her crib, dressed in a white and tulle-filled dress. Her mother held her bouquet, holding the door open for them.

Her voice full of mirth when she led the way towards the large double-doors, where her father would be waiting.

“Your father is dying of nervousness by the way!”

Their laughter mingling.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite you to leave:
> 
> _Short comments_   
>  _Long comments_   
>  _Questions_   
>  _Constructive criticism_   
>  _Reader-reader interaction_
> 
> I reply to every comment, though it sometimes takes me a day, or two.
> 
> I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/)


End file.
